


Vagabond

by grumblebee_dani



Category: No Fandom
Genre: dream - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:41:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23144857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grumblebee_dani/pseuds/grumblebee_dani
Summary: My friend told me about a dream she had and I wrote it out as a short story.
Kudos: 1





	Vagabond

Weary with travel, the vagabond knelt to rummage through her bag. A bruised apple, a map of the swamplands with bleeding ink, and a ratty handkerchief. Not much to go on, but a snack might quell the hunger sending aches through her feeble body. She let herself fall to a sitting position and took a bite of the well-worn fruit. Sickly sweet juice dripped from her chin, and as she wiped it away, the vagabond happened to spy a figure in the distance. They were clearly tall and broad-shouldered, though it was difficult to see through the haze. She stuffed the rest of the apple back into her bag and stood, hoping there wouldn’t be any trouble. The swamplands were vast and unknowable, and the vagabond did not fancy ending up as another one of its mysteries. She turned and kept up the fastest pace she could in the other direction. Squelching footsteps made this difficult. With every movement there was a wet noise and a forceful tug from below. The vagabond had abandoned her shoes long ago. 

A quick glance back at the figure allowed another realization: they were not alone. Someone else had joined the first, who must have been waiting for them. The broader figure did not shoo the newcomer away or take a defensive position. They simply talked by the edge of a larger pond. The vagabond cursed herself for staring too long when the two looked her way. Not knowing whether to go towards or away from them, she stayed frozen. Skimming through the options in her head, she resigned herself to going the way she meant to in the first place, which meant skirting around the figures and hoping they would let her pass. As the vagabond neared the pond with dragging steps, she could see the figures much more clearly. The first was wearing black plate armor, their face obscured by a helmet. They did not move or turn their head, but she could feel their eyes on her as she walked. The second was a boy of a much younger age, though not a child. He was paler than the moonlight with fingers so blue they must have been frostbitten. Despite how cold he must have been, he did not shiver. The vagabond hiked her bag up higher on her shoulder and continued past them as quickly as she could. Her heart raced, though the figures had not presented any danger thus far. They watched her leave, and with another glance back, she saw the boy wiggle his cold fingers goodbye.


End file.
